


Lean On Me

by Hazel_Athena



Category: The Magnificent Seven (2016)
Genre: Ensemble Cast, Everybody Lives, M/M, Touch-Starved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-25
Updated: 2017-08-25
Packaged: 2018-12-19 22:08:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11907180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hazel_Athena/pseuds/Hazel_Athena
Summary: The first step Faraday takes on his own after the battle for Rose Creek almost sees him fall flat on his face. He stumbles as his bad leg buckles beneath him, flailing for the nearest object he can grab hold of to steady himself, which in this case happens to be Vasquez.





	Lean On Me

**Author's Note:**

> This fic's been sitting in my word docs for months now. I don't consider it to be one of my better pieces, but it's done and ready to go.

The first step Faraday takes on his own after the battle for Rose Creek almost sees him fall flat on his face. He stumbles as his bad leg buckles beneath him, flailing for the nearest object he can grab hold of to steady himself, which in this case happens to be Vasquez. The outlaw, along with the rest of their merry band of misfits, had wanted to witness the momentous occasion that was Faraday getting out of bed on his own, and now happens to be the closest person to Faraday's wind milling grasp.

Faraday's hand lands heavily on Vasquez's shoulder, and the slightly taller man lets out a startled grunt at the touch, almost but not quite flinching away. He gathers his wits about him lightening quick, however, and even goes so far as to curl his hand gently over Faraday's wrist, the grip helping him maintain his balance all the more.

"Easy, guero," he says, the sound a little hard to hear over the worried yelps and admonishments that are coming from the rest of their friends – Goodnight is especially shrill, but even Red almost expresses an emotion. "I've got you."

And he does, Faraday realizes. As soon he's gotten over the initial shock of Faraday grabbing at him, Vasquez shifts his grip and settles his arm around the wounded man's waist, his hold steady and sure and definitely strong enough to keep Faraday from toppling over onto the floor.

At first Faraday balks at the attention, his face heating as he proves himself still incapable of standing unaided on his own two feet. However, there's no judgment in Vasquez's expression, only support and something that looks a little like relief. Faraday doesn't understand why that last one would be there, but as long as Vasquez isn't looking at him like he's pathetic, he supposes he can handle whatever's happening.

He's considerably less content when Sam starts pawing at him from the other side. Faraday likes Sam well enough and trusts him more than he does practically anyone else in the world, but there's a limit to how much assistance he can bring himself to handle in a single setting. Unable to help himself, he pulls back out of Sam's reach, the motion causing him to curl more into Vasquez's side as he goes.

If Vasquez has a problem with this, he does a good job of hiding it with the way he stays silent as Faraday waves an admonishing finger in Sam's face.

"Oh, no you don't, Sam Chisholm." Faraday insists shuffling backwards a step or two. "I am perfectly capable of doin' this without your help."

Sam rolls his eyes. "Son, I'd be more inclined to believe that if you weren't usin' poor Vasquez as a lifeline right now. Let us help you."

"If I've got Vasquez then I don't need you, right?" Faraday casts a quick, inquiring glance at Vasquez's face, feeling a sharp bite of relief course through him when the other man merely nods affably. "Right." He says again. "I only require one human crutch at the moment, and it appears Vas is up to the task."

Sam gives him one of his patented you-need-constant-adult-supervision looks, but doesn't press the issue. "If you're sure," he says quietly, "and if you're sure too, Vasquez."

"Sí," Vasquez rumbles from his place at Faraday's side. "I've got him."

Faraday makes a pleased noise, content for some reason he can't explain to let Vasquez be the one he leans on for this. He offers Sam one of his trademarked, roguish winks. "There, you hear that? Vas'll keep me from fallin' on my face or breakin' my fool neck or whatever else it is you're so worried about. He's got this."

Once again, Vasquez makes a noise of agreement as Faraday's finishes speaking. On the other hand, Sam looks like he's questioning this decision and Goodnight looks even more skeptical from where he’s hovering behind him.

Regardless, let them judge all they want. In this instance, Faraday's going to lean on the person who doesn't seem to think he needs to be coddled beyond recognition. He slaps Vasquez lightly on the shoulder with his free hand. "C'mon, hombre, let’s see how far I can get before one of the old fellas here ruins it on me."

*****

It becomes something of a habit almost immediately. Faraday's convalescence is long and arduous and often sees him requiring some manner of assistance, no matter how much it bothers him to admit to such. 

More often than not he bristles at the attentions of his fellows, to say nothing of the well-meaning townsfolk. He's lived most of his life alone - his father having taken off before he can really remember, and his mother having passed away at an age when he was still more of a boy than a man - and the very nature of it has left him with an independent streak a mile wide. Having to bend to the whims of his body and lean on other people makes him chafe something awful.

Except, that is, when it's Vasquez he's leaning on. He and the outlaw had been well on their way towards something Faraday might just be willing to call friendship prior to the fight for Rose Creek, and Vasquez's easy going nature, so at odds with the murderous bounty on his head, makes him the best choice for dealing with Faraday's recovery. No matter how much Faraday snaps and snarls, Vasquez just lets the words roll off him like water off a duck's back, typically responding with a teasing wink or a grumbled protest that Faraday can tell is only for show.

They make for an odd pair, certainly, and for a while Faraday's convinced his needs have got to be getting on Vasquez's nerves. After all, who wants to be stuck as a human crutch for a bear of a man who more often than not can't string so much as a thank you together and is more likely to respond with sullen barbs to questions about his health?

The answer, apparently, is Vasquez. Among the non-wounded members of their crew, where Red Harvest won't give Faraday the time of day and even Sam's notable patience frays after too much time spent listening to him whine, Vasquez handles it all with little complaint. In fact, if Faraday didn't know any better, he'd say there was almost an eagerness to the man, his eyes lighting up whenever Faraday reaches for him while slowly making his way around town or climbing down the stairs or whatever other times he might have difficulty with his mobility.

It’s not in Faraday’s nature to express gratitude and it never has been, but if there ever were a man deserving of such notions from him it’d be Vasquez. Faraday doesn’t know for certain where they’re all going to end up once the more severely injured of them have finally finished recuperating, although there’s been some talk of them sticking together as a unit, and he finds himself not entirely repulsed by the idea. In particular, he likes the idea of keeping Vasquez around, having gotten used to the man’s eccentricities over the past few months.

After all this time on his own, he’s maybe coming around on the idea of having someone in his corner when things take a turn for the worse.  

*****

Faraday doesn’t start to realize there’s maybe more to this whole thing with Vasquez helping him until several weeks after he’s been let out of his sickbed. They’ve made their way over to the saloon on the off chance there might be something interesting going on inside, and discovered Goodnight – his still mending broken leg propped up on a second seat – holding court all alone at one of the tables.

“Wonder where that knife wieldin’ shadow of his has got to?” Faraday murmurs.

“Not far.” Vasquez replies. He’s standing a little behind Faraday’s right shoulder, far enough that they’re not actually touching for once, but close enough that Faraday can reach if he needs something to brace himself on. When Faraday shifts to raise a quizzical eyebrow at him, he nods in the direction of the bar. “Over there.”

Turning around slowly – he may be far better off than he was, but his body still has a tendency to protest his actions when he’s least expecting it – Faraday spots Billy placing an order with one of the serving girls. He grins. “I think Rocks has the right idea. Any chance I can convince you to go grab us a glass or two?”

Vasquez heaves a long-suffering sigh that’s entirely counteracted by the way the corner of his mouth twitches as he tries to hide a grin. “I need you to know I am only agreeing to do this because I want a drink too, and you will just trip and break something if you try and go up there by yourself.”

“Excuse me?” Faraday gasps in mock offence, though he’s careful not to make his movements too exaggerated lest he wind up doing exactly what Vasquez is worried about. “Did you somehow miss the part where I got all the way over here from the boarding house and only needed a bit of help on the stairs?”

“No, guero.” Vasquez tells him, something that looks an awful look like pride crossing his face, although Faraday doesn’t have the nerve to say so. “I saw. Well done.”

“Thank you.” Faraday sniffs, and if there’s more honesty in those two words than he’d normally allow for, at least nobody’s going know that but them. “Now then, while you go about gettin’ us some booze, I am goin’ to sit down.” 

“You need a break?” Vasquez asks, shifting from teasing to concerned in the blink of an eye.

“No, y’goddamned Mexican mother hen, I don’t need a break. I just don’t see any point in standin’ around here like an idiot when there’s a bunch of perfectly serviceable chairs over by Goodnight.” Without thinking about it, Faraday reaches back and claps Vasquez on the shoulder, shaking him slightly when the man automatically leans into his touch. “You get the drinks, I’ll get the seats.”

“One of those involves much more work than the other,” Vasquez complains.

“So you say,” Faraday replies, briefly queezing his shoulder before letting go and heading for the table in question, only limping a little in the process. 

"You ever stop and think before you do that?" Goodnight asks in lieu of a greeting upon his arrival. He’s watching Faraday with a shrewd look on his face that’s just this side of unsettling. Faraday has never cared for being eyeballed, regardless of who’s the one doing it. 

From where he's just sunk into one of the nicer chairs near the back wall, Faraday blinks, confused at what the man's referring to. "Do what?" He asks. He doesn't think he's done anything outside the norm just now, but it’s common fact that he and Goodnight don't always see eye to eye on things, so what does he know? 

"Lean on Vasquez the way you do." Goodnight replies, which, truth be told doesn't serve to clarify much. 

"Well, I can't exactly lean on you," Faraday points out in what he feels is a reasonable manner. "We'd both fall over, if not worse. Besides, I've been doin' it for ages now. Vas don't mind."

Goodnight gives him a look Faraday would bet a full night's worth of winnings he'd learned from Billy. "I'd watch myself if I was you," he says ominously. "You're offering a starving man breadcrumbs every time you do it, and solid money says it's going to come back and bite us all in the ass if you're not careful." 

"What in the world are you on about?" Faraday asks, genuinely baffled and not bothering to hide it. "Vas ain't starvin', the damn jackass stole half my breakfast right off my plate just this mornin'." 

Goodnight stares at him. "Faraday, were you dropped on your head as a child, possibly repeatedly? Never mind," he says, shaking his head when Faraday makes a move to answer. "I can't say as I actually care, and that wasn't what I was getting at to boot." 

"Then what are you gettin' at?" Faraday asks. He can only handle so much of Goodnight's way of rambling around an issue before he gets fed up and has to take off for a bit, and he has an inkling that breaking point is coming soon if the man doesn’t say what it is he’s after.

"Just this - there's more than one kind of starvation, boy, and you're playing off something Vasquez is hungry for without even realizing it." 

"Meanin’?" Faraday taps the foot of his good leg impatiently, using it to indicate how Goodnight should get to the crux of his argument. 

Sighing, the man in question leans back in his seat, pitching his voice low so that anyone passing by on the street won't be able to hear him. "Our favourite renegade has been crawling through the wilderness for longer than you and I would ever be able to manage, and I doubt he had much in the way of human companionship while he did it." 

Faraday snorts at this, recalling the story of how Sam and dear Ms. Cullen had first found Vasquez, bedded down in a house that had seen better days, and with a corpse of all things for a roommate. "Not that was alive, anyway," he says. 

"Precisely," Goodnight agrees, and Faraday has a sneaking suspicion they're both thinking about the same story now. "Have you any idea what that can do to a man? Because I do. I've been there myself, albeit to a lesser degree, back when I was trying to make my way home to Louisiana and had to cross through enemy territory to do it." 

"And what'd it do to you?" Faraday asks, more curious than he should be. Goodnight doesn't often offer up tidbits about his time as a soldier, but it's hard not to be intrigued by the whole idea, especially given the rumours and legends that surround him. Therefore, Faraday tends to soak up whatever details he's given, sparse though they may be.

"Let's just say it made me crave human companionship more than I'd care to admit, companionship of any sort at that." Goodnight frowns into the distance, eyes clearly focused on something in the past as opposed to the here and now, then gives himself a shake and turns back to Faraday.

"You need to be careful." He says firmly. "Otherwise you might push him too far without realizing it."

Faraday scoffs at this. “Vas is a big boy, Robicheaux. He’s more than capable of tellin’ me to take a hike if he’s of a mind to.”

“That’s all well and good,” Goodnight replies, “but you’re assuming he’d do so. Me on the other hand, I’m not so sure.”

Any response Faraday might have been able to make is necessarily cut off upon the arrival of both Billy and Vasquez at the table, meaning that he has to settle for giving Goodnight his best stink eye and nothing else.

“Guero, what is your face doing?” Vasquez sets two glasses down on the table and looks at Faraday with both eyebrows raised. He slips into the chair next to Faraday’s with a grunt. “You look like you’ve just had a thought and it is making your head hurt.”

“Vasquez, my friend, this is Faraday we’re talking about here.” Goodnight supplies from where Billy has just handed him a glass of his own. “Chances are good that’s exactly what happened and the hurt is stemming from the fact that his head is so unused to having his brain come up with new things.”

Faraday shoots Goodnight a dirty look as Vasquez cackles and Billy’s lips turn up in an approximation of a grin, but nevertheless keeps his mouth shut. He doesn’t particularly want to tell Vasquez what’s on his mind right now, preferring to take some time to parse it out for himself, so it’s better to let Goodnight distract the man with his ribbing. Maybe later they can discuss things more in depth, or, better still, forget about it entirely.

*****

For all his vehement denials when they’d first been brought up, Faraday has a hard time getting Goodnight’s words out of his head. It’d taken him some time to come around to the idea that Vasquez didn’t mind helping him, though he’d managed to get there in the end through the simple act of the others and Vasquez himself stating it repeatedly, but he’s never once considered that Vasquez might be deriving a benefit from it as well. Now that he has, however, he can’t seem to stop focusing on it.

He thinks about how Vasquez has always been more willing than anyone else to lend a hand when he needed one to grab. He thinks about how Vasquez slides easily into place beside him; always close enough for either of them to make a grab for the other if Faraday trips. He thinks about how Vasquez, unlike possibly any of the others, seems downright eager to be grabbed for, pawed at, and altogether stumbled over any time it happens.

Faraday thinks about all that and comes to the conclusion that Goodnight is probably right, and Vasquez has been helping him as much for his own benefit as for Faraday’s. The man likely wouldn’t feel comfortable asking for what he needed, but receiving it as a result of helping somebody else? Well, that the stubborn bastard might just go for.

Which, is not to say that it’s a bad thing, if anything it makes Faraday feel a little less guilty about the whole mess, seeing as it means he’s not taking what Vasquez offers and providing nothing in return. On the other hand, it still doesn’t sit quite well with him. Faraday’s almost healed, he knows this, and while he’s going to have some Rose Creek related aches and pains for the rest of his life, they’re not going to be the kind he needs Vasquez’s help with, meaning the man in question is going to be left alone with his own problems in the very near future.

That sits surprisingly poorly with Faraday, and is a large part of why he decides to simply go on as he has been, Goodnight’s advice and worries be damned. As far as he’s concerned, he’s killing two birds with one stone, with both him and Vasquez getting something to lean on when they need it. He’s gotten used to having Vasquez in his space at this point, and the thought of him no longer being there is more upsetting than not, especially if Vasquez is benefitting from it as well.

As such, he decides to do something about it.

Unfortunately, Faraday’s always been a bit on the impulsive side. He tends to look at a problem, consider the best, quickest and most direct approach for dealing with it, and then apply said approach regardless of any potential consequences. As far as he’s concerned it’s a method that gets results, even if said results are occasionally him almost getting blown sky high by flinging a stick of dynamite at a loaded gatling gun, and he’s not going to let a little thing like a near death experience make him question it now.

Plain and simple, Faraday means to continue on as they are, and he sees no reason why this should end up being a problem. Vasquez will see his own needs fulfilled, and Faraday will be able to sit back and be proud of a job well done.

In hindsight, however, he probably should have seen fit to let Vasquez in on his plan just to be safe. After all, it might have saved them both some trouble in the long run if they’d simply been on the same page from the start.

*****

Their last night in Rose Creek turns in to something of a party. Most of the townsfolk want to take one last time to express their gratitude to the men who'd helped save them, and they’re determined to do it in style. Never one to shy from being the centre of attention, Faraday throws himself headlong into the celebration, drinking what’s handed to him and dancing as best as he’s able thanks to his new limitations. He doesn't shift away from the crowd until late in the evening when he catches sight of Vasquez sitting by himself on the bottom of the stairs inside the saloon. 

"Vas!" He barks, making his way through the people milling about, now with a very specific quarry in mind. "The hell are you doin' over here all alone?" 

Reaching his destination, he drops down on the stairs beside the other man and takes a hearty swig of whiskey from the bottle he has clutched in one hand. Vasquez chuckles quietly at the sight. "Just taking a breather, guero," he says easily. "Not everybody likes getting so drunk they can no longer stand, sí?" 

Scoffing, Faraday takes another pull from his bottle before he responds. "I ain't that drunk. I ain't drunk at all, really. Can't be when we're gonna be in the saddle all day tomorrow. I don't imagine Sam's the type to allow for hangover breaks." 

"No, probably not," Vasquez agrees, and something in his tone sets Faraday's senses tingling. If he didn't know any better, he'd say his friend sounds sad. A quick glance over at him does nothing to quell this thought either since he looks kind of sad too. 

"S'matter, Vas?" Faraday asks. As far as he's concerned there isn't much about tonight that could be better, so Vasquez has no business going about with a hangdog expression of any sort. 

"Hmm?" Vasquez asks. "Oh, nada. Nothing. I'm fine." 

"Y'don't look fine," Faraday informs him. "Y'look .... depressed." 

Vasquez stares at him for a few moments, and then laughs, the sound doing plenty to banish his previous demeanour but not as much as Faraday would like. "I'm fine, guero," he insists. "Whereas you, I think, are having too much to drink." 

"Nah," Faraday says, and then, because it seems like the right thing to do, he hooks his free arm around Vasquez's neck and hauls him in until they're pressed together side to side. He keeps his arm slung over Vasquez's shoulders while he takes another drink as calm as anything. Vasquez tenses at first, going stiff at his touch in a way Faraday doesn't like, but he settles soon enough and in the end all but melts into Faraday's side, going limp and boneless as he huffs out a sigh Faraday would classify as contented. 

"See," Faraday says knowingly. "Now y'look happier. I guess all you needed was my truly excellent company. I get it, of course, that'll cheer anybody up." 

Vasquez rumbles out a laugh, trying to shove at Faraday, only to be stymied in his efforts because of how close together they're sitting. "You think too highly of yourself, guero, and this party isn't helping. You don't need these people to tell you how wonderful you are." 

Faraday lets out an indignant noise, and shoots him a mock glower. "Just for that," he says haughtily, "see if I share my booze with you." 

Vasquez gives him a searching look, and Faraday can tell the exact moment he makes up his mind to lunge for the bottle in his outstretched hand. "Oh no, nuh uh," Faraday yelps as Vasquez clambers over him and tries to wrestle the whiskey away from him. "Get back, d'ya hear me? Back, y'goddamned Mexican nuisance!" 

He uses his free hand and then somehow gets a knee up to try and shove Vasquez off of him, but all this does is cause him to lose his balance and send them both onto a heap on the floor, the one saving grace being that he's able to maintain his grip on the bottle and keep it from either shattering on the ground or ending up in Vasquez's clutches. 

"Jesus wept; do you have any idea how much you weigh?" He demands as Vasquez sprawls over him, still determined to try and go for the whiskey. Truth be told, Faraday doesn't care a lick about the weight, is in fact having a grand time messing around like they are, but if he doesn't make at least a token protest Vasquez will never let him hear the end of it. 

An annoyed cough from somewhere above them brings an abrupt halt to their impromptu wrestling match, and Faraday - with Vasquez still firmly seated on top of him - looks up to see one of the late Gavin's working girls glaring down at them, a fellow whose name he can't place hovering at her elbow. "You're blockin' the stairs," the woman says with a sniff, and Faraday and Vasquez both scramble to get out of her way. 

"My apologies, ma'am," Faraday says, fighting to keep a straight face and stop himself from snickering. 

"Sí, señorita," Vasquez says from behind him, and Faraday doesn't need to look at him to know he's fighting a grin as well. "Lo siento." 

"I'm goin' to assume that means you're sorry too," the woman says, and then she bustles past them with a sweep of her heavy skirts, dragging her companion along behind her as she goes.

Faraday manages to hold in his laughter until she's gone, but it soon bursts out of him, hearty enough that it sends him sinking back to the stairs, Vasquez crashing down next to him as he's overcome as well. He swipes at his eyes, which are watering a little, and leans back into Vasquez's space the way he had been before. "Y'know, I think I'm actually going to miss this place." 

"You could stay," Vasquez points out, surprising him with the suggestion. "They would be happy to have you." 

"Nah," Faraday says, taking a drink from the bottle he's miraculously managed to keep control of. "The settled life ain't for me. I'd get bored too easy. It's better if I throw in with you lot - might be I won't get into quite as much trouble as usual with Sam calling the shots, but it should be enough to keep me interested. What about you?" He asks figuring turnabout is fair play. "They'd probably be happier to keep you than they would me, seein' as you helped rebuild the damn town and all." 

Vasquez wrinkles his nose thoughtfully but then shakes his head. "No, this isn't the life for me either, I don't think. Not now, anyway. Besides, if I stay in one place for too long it's bound to bring trouble." 

It takes Faraday longer than it should for him to parse out what that means, but eventually it clicks. "You mean cuz of the warrant on your head. That ain't gonna be a problem no more. Anyone who wants you is goin' through the rest of us first." He bumps Vasquez with his elbow and then slings his arm back around the man's shoulder for emphasis. "And we're the scariest sons of bitches any poor bounty hunter could ever hope to meet." 

Vasquez looks startled for a moment, and then his expression melts into one that's just this side of touched. "That's ... kind of you to say, guero." 

"Nah," Faraday denies, not comfortable with how many feelings this conversation has suddenly developed. "It's just fact. Honestly, do you think Sam will settle for anyone messin' with a member of his crew? Not a chance, hombre. In fact, I pity the poor soul who tries it." 

Vasquez gives him a knowing look, and sags a little more heavily into Faraday's side. Then he huffs out a tired sounding breath. "It will be different, though," he says, and damnit if that forlorn tone from the beginning of the evening isn't back in his voice. "Big changes." 

"Not that many," Faraday assures him because it sounds like he needs to hear it. Vasquez looks at him then, his gaze heavy, and shrugs his shoulder to dislodge Faraday's arm. 

"We will see," he says cryptically, and much to Faraday's dismay he gets to his feet. "I should sleep. Going to be a busy day tomorrow." 

"Alright," Faraday says. He can't help but feel like he's just dropped the ball somehow, but he'll be damned if he could say why. "I'll see you in the mornin'." 

Vasquez makes a humming sound of agreement, and then he's off and heading for the door of the saloon, no doubt intent on getting to his bed in the boarding house. 

Faraday watches him as he goes, unexpectedly troubled, and wonders why that is.

*****

The first day the seven of them spend out on the road together goes pretty much as Faraday is expecting. There’s some minor squabbling, most notably between himself and Goodnight, but they make good time despite not having any particular destination in mind and no one has gotten fed up enough to ride off into the sunset by the time they stop to make camp.

Sam takes one look at them all as they pull up into the clearing he’s determined is the best place for them to spend the night and immediately begins sending each man off on various chores. Faraday considers protesting on principle, but the list Sam has laid out makes a fair amount of sense as it keeps them in their preferred pairs – Goodnight with Billy, Faraday with Vasquez, etc etc – and lets those of them that need it get a little space from each other.

“Someone should tell that man it ain’t nice to go readin’ a fella’s mind without permission,” he grumbles as he and Vasquez head in one direction in search of firewood. Goodnight and Billy are off to the nearby creek to fetch some water, and Horne and Red have gone to see if they can track down some game to let them spread the rations they took with them out as much as possible. “It’s damned rude, it is.”

“Not rude, guero,” Vasquez disagrees. “You’re to blame for being so predictable.”

“Who’re you callin’ predictable?” Faraday demands offended. “I’ll have you know I am a bastion of unpredictability, please and thank you.”

Vasquez blinks at him in confusion. “I don’t – that word you used, I don’t know it.”

“What, bastion?” At Vasquez confirming nod, Faraday shrugs. “Oh. It’s like a fort or somethin’ similar.”

Now Vasquez snorts. “If that’s the case, then you are a liar, not a fort.”

“And again I say, you’re rude, Vas.” Without thinking about it, Faraday moves to elbow the other man in the side, almost pitching over onto his ass when he finds empty air instead of Vasquez’ solid bulk like he’s used to.

“Guero?” Vasquez asks as Faraday stumbles and has to fight to maintain his balance. “You okay?”

“What? Oh, yeah, fine.” Looking back he finds Vasquez further away than he usually is, with a couple of feet between them instead of the normal few inches. Unexpectedly bothered by this, but equally determined not to let it show, he shrugs and points in the direction of several recently downed tree branches. “I reckon we’ll find enough wood to fuel a whole batch of fires over that way.”

Vasquez makes a noise of agreement, and trots over to where Faraday has indicated. “You’re right, and I’m hungry so let’s not have this take any longer than it needs to.”

“Right.” Faraday mutters. “Let’s not do that.”

It doesn’t take them much time to get the necessary firewood, but Faraday would be lying if he said he was at all focused on the task at hand. Now that he’s looking for it, he’s noticed that Vasquez is deliberately holding himself out of Faraday’s space – or, if it’s not deliberate, doing it nevertheless. Where there’s normally no more than a couple of inches separating them at any given time - partly so that Faraday has something to lean on if he needs it, but also because that’s just how they fit together these days – now Vasquez isn’t getting any closer than a couple of feet.

Vasquez keeps up his strangeness all through supper, this time going to sit with Red in between him and Faraday, though, to look at him, you’d never once suspect anything was outside of the ordinary. He’s laughing and joking, not to mention eating as much as he ever does when they’re all together; it’s just that he’s doing it further away from Faraday than normal.

Faraday doesn’t know what’s going on, but he knows he doesn’t like it.

By the time they’ve all decided to bed down for the night, Faraday’s decided enough is enough. He waits for Vasquez to pick a patch of ground to situate him and his belongings on, and then immediately tosses his own bedroll down next to him.

“This is the best spot,” he says when Vasquez eyes him suspiciously. He doesn’t mean for the words to come out sounding defensive, but he thinks they might anyway. “And you’d better not snore because I ain’t movin’.”

For a second he thinks Vasquez might get up and find somewhere else to settle down for the night. He doesn’t quite hold his breath as he waits for the other man’s response, and just barely bites back a relieved sigh when Vasquez finally cracks a grin. It’s not as bright as his usual ones, but it’s genuine enough and Faraday takes it as a sign that he should remain where he is.

He’ll do his best to get a good sleep now and tackle any potential oddness in the morning. With luck, whatever’s wrong with Vasquez will be nothing more than a passing fancy, and he’ll have gotten over it by tomorrow.

*****

It's pitch black out when Faraday comes awake. The stars are glinting up above in the night sky, and the sun isn't so much a glimmer on the horizon. In the distance, he thinks he can hear the faint sound of someone snoring off to his left. All of this combines to tell him it's still the middle of the night, and he wonders what the hell could have woken him. Usually he sleeps like the dead until sunup unless something interrupts him. 

He's still blearily trying to convince his head to work, when something shifts a little beneath him. Startled, Faraday's tired brain realizes two things. One, he's migrated unintentionally during the night and is now curled around Vasquez, the two of them lying back to front and more on Vasquez's bedroll than Faraday's own. Two, Vasquez is trying to shift away from him, his small, slow movements no doubt the culprit that had woken Faraday up in the first place. 

Since he's warm and comfortable and sees no reason to change either of these facts, Faraday does the only logical thing and tightens the grip he has around Vasquez's waist. "Quit movin', w'l you?" He mumbles into the other man's shoulder. "M'tryin' a sleep." 

Vasquez freezes, going horrifically still for a moment, the kind of still that has every muscle in his body lock up like someone who's been caught doing something they shouldn't, and then he gives up all pretences of trying to be subtle in his bid for escape, flinging Faraday's arm off of him and scrambling back until he's no longer on the bedroll and landing with his ass in the dirt, still shuffling backwards even then. 

The campfire from earlier has been reduced to nothing but glowing embers, but that's just enough light for Faraday to see all this happen. Confused and not overly impressed, he raises his head so that he can glare over at his former sleeping companion. "The fuck?" He groans, displeased - all he wants to do is go back to bed, not deal with whatever this is. "Get your ass back here - it's cold." 

"Cold!" Vasquez hisses, and there's a note of something, something that sounds distinctly unhappy, in his voice that penetrates through the fog surrounding Faraday's sleep addled brain. "It is not cold!" 

Maybe not in general, this was true, but there was a stark difference between being tucked up against a warm body and not. Faraday thinks about saying as much, but the same warning bells that are telling him Vasquez is upset are also telling him to keep that thought to himself, so he does. 

Instead, he settles for letting out a tired groan and rolling over to get back to his own bedroll. Once he's accomplished this, he gives the recently vacated one a little pat, trying to emphasize how it's free again. "C'mon, Vas, go back to sleep, yeah?" 

"No." Vasquez says. Faraday sees him shake his head in the dim light, and then - what the hell? - he gets to his feet. "No. I can't." 

"What?" Faraday asks, and he's no longer confused because he's half-asleep. Now he's confused because Vasquez is being strange. Why is he doing that at this hour? Doesn't he know Faraday can't process strangeness until he's fully awake? "It's the middle of the goddamn night and I gave you your spot back. Lay down." 

"No," Vasquez says again. He shuffles his feet awkwardly for a few moments and then starts moving away. "I need to, meirda. I need to go. Leave. Not be here." And then he puts action to words and makes a break for the riverbank while Faraday is left lying on the ground, staring after him with his mouth hanging open like a particularly stupid fish. 

"What in hell's name?" He wonders, wracking his brain for anything that could have set Vasquez off this way. The man had faced down a screaming horde of Blackstones without so much as flinching. Faraday doesn't have a clue what could have rattled him tonight. 

Concerned, he kicks free of his own bedding and tries to figure out the best course of action. Part of him is screaming that he should follow, but Vasquez has never struck him as the kind of man who would appreciate being chased after when he's made it clear he'd prefer to be alone, has in fact struck him as the kind of man who'd lash out if crossed. 

He's still sitting in the same spot a good five minutes later when someone coughs and a strained voice he identifies as Goodnight's says, "Faraday, I hate to push the issue, but you've clearly missed your cue to go after him." 

"Goody, no," Billy groans from somewhere in the darkness. "I told you to stay out of it." 

"Please," Goodnight scoffs, "if I stay out of it, Faraday's going to sit there like a lump all night, and lord knows what Vasquez will do - bolt, maybe." 

"Vasquez isn't going anywhere without his gear," Billy assures, like this particular sticking point is something to be happy about. 

Faraday hears it when Goodnight sniffs, unimpressed. "That's what you think, cher. The man is clearly panicking. Faraday, go get him," he adds because he's apparently having multiple conversations at once. "The longer you leave him alone, the more worked up he's going to be." 

"Goody, stop helping." Billy says, and there's a pleading edge to his voice that would be funny under other circumstances. 

"Goody, do not stop helping," says Sam, piping up from where he's been bedded down on the outside of their camp, fairly close to where Vasquez had passed in his bid for escape. 

"Sam?" Goodnight asks, sounding surprised. "I didn't realize you were up too." 

"Vasquez nearly stepped on me when he went by." Sam says tiredly. "Someone do me a favour and go drag him back, please." 

"Not someone," Goodnight insists. "Faraday." 

"Fine, Faraday." Sam makes a sound like he's above everything that's happening right now. "It doesn't matter who it is so long as somebody does it." 

"Why me?" Faraday asks, genuinely curious. It's not that he doesn't want to help or try and fix things if he can, but it was him Vasquez had being trying to get away from so he hardly seems like the best choice. 

There is a long, weighty pause. "Oh my lord," says Goodnight finally, his voice faint. "I can't - Billy, can you explain?" 

"Yeah, but I'm not gonna." 

"Jesus Christ," Sam growls from his spot. "Just go, Faraday! And don't you step on me too." 

"Uh, okay." 

Climbing to his feet without a clue as to why, Faraday faces the direction Vasquez had headed in and starts walking. It takes him longer than expected to find him because it turns out Vasquez hadn't stopped when he'd reached the riverbank and had instead kept moving along it. By the time Faraday finds him, sitting on a rock not far from the water with his head in his hands, they're well out of earshot of the others, which Faraday honestly doesn't know if that's a blessing or a curse.

"Vas?" He calls tentatively, wishing he had something better than moonlight to work with so he could see the other man's face. "You alright?" 

Vasquez makes a harsh sound, but makes no move to adjust his current position. 

Beginning to get seriously concerned - this isn’t typical behaviour for Vasquez at all - Faraday cautiously makes his way over to him, careful to keep his footing on the slippery, uneven rocks. "Vas, what's goin' on? You've got the whole crew worried. Well," he adds, remembering that Red and Horne are still asleep, "those of 'em who're awake, that is. Though I'm sure the others would worry too if they were." 

Vasquez makes a noise that might charitably be called a laugh, but doesn't lift his head. 

Faraday frowns. "Vas, what is it?" Within reach now, he stretches out an arm and rests a hand on the other man's shoulder like he’s done countless times in the past. He doesn't know what kind of reaction he's expecting from such a move, not really, but he does know it’s not for Vasquez to jerk back like he's been burned and then scramble away from Faraday like he thinks he needs to put distance between them. 

"That!" He barks, wringing his hands and giving Faraday a wild look. "It's that. I can't - you have to stop. I need you to stop. Please, I will beg you if I have too." 

"Stop what?" Faraday asks, utterly confounded now. As far as he knows he hasn't acted any differently towards Vasquez tonight than he has any other night they've known each other - minus the whole nighttime cuddling thing that is, but that had been an accident and he'd moved when Vasquez had told him too. "Would you please start talkin' sense, so I can figure out what's the matter with you?" 

"I don't need you to know what is the matter with me," Vasquez all but shouts. "I don't need anyone to do that. I can take care of me! No one else has too!" 

Faraday has a sneaking suspicion they're having two different conversations right now, but he can't for the life of him figure out what's gotten into Vasquez. He clears his throat and takes a couple of steps towards his friend, his movements obvious and deliberate, the same measured steps he uses when he has to approach Jack at his most ornery. "Look," he says slowly, "I don't know what your problem is, but you've got everybody ... concerned, shall we say. Let me help." 

"Guero, you can't help," Vasquez insists. "You _are_ the problem." 

The words hit Faraday like a slap to the face, and he pulls back, more stung than he can believe and unable to hide it. "Oh," he says dully, wondering what he could have done to upset Vasquez and, more importantly, what he can do to fix it. "Sorry, I, fuck, I didn't realize - I, should I go get one of the others? Would that help?" He doesn't want to do that, doesn't want to let somebody else fix something he's apparently broken, but if that's what it takes he'll do it. 

Vasquez barks out a laugh with no humour in it whatsoever. "No, it will not help. Nothing helps. Every day it is like being - like being, honestly, guero, I do not know if I have the words to describe it. In either language. But it is terrible, and I need it to stop." 

"Then you need to tell me what I've done," Faraday says. He feels like his insides are being gnawed at by wild dogs, like something's clawed its way in his belly and is just going to keep tearing at him until there's nothing left. Whatever he's done that's so awful to Vasquez, he needs to fix it, and he needs to fix it now. "Talk to me, please." 

"I already told you. Before." Vasquez flaps a hand between the two of them, like he thinks this is going to help clarify anything, and then steps back again. "I need _you_ to _stop_." 

"Yeah, okay," Faraday acknowledges because Vasquez had said exactly that not too long ago. Unfortunately, he'd then proceeded to provide no other useful information. "But you didn't tell me _what_ I'm supposed to stop. How can I do it if I don't know?" 

Vasquez makes a noise like he's dying, and if things weren't so serious, Faraday would be tempted to laugh at seeing a man usually so calm and collected lose his cool this way. As he watches, Vasquez throws his hands in the air and stomps a little bit down the riverbank, only to turn around once he reaches the very edge of the water and then come marching back closer than before, right in Faraday's personal space. 

"Do you know how long I've had that warrant on my head?" He demands, and Faraday doesn't get a chance to reply before he's speaking again, or yelling rather. "Three years! Three. Years. That's three years of dodging all the warrant officers and bounty hunters and whoever else might come calling. Three years of only ever slinking into the most remote towns, crawling along like a kicked dog with its head down in case I attract the wrong attention, and stealing what I could to survive more times than not. Do you know what living that way is like?" 

"No," Faraday says tentatively, unsure of whether or not Vasquez actually wants a response. He's tempted to reach out and offer a comforting hand, unable to think of anything else to do, but Vasquez glares at him the moment he twitches in his direction, his gaze keeping Faraday firmly in place. 

"It is awful. Always running. Always hungry, so hungry, but not always hungry for food. Sometimes all I want is - is ..." 

"To be touched," Faraday finishes, relieved that this part at least he understands. "Yeah, I know. And you couldn't get it while you were on the run, so you like it now. So what?" 

Vasquez stops short at his words, and then slowly pulls himself up to his full height, the air around him practically bristling as he spits, "You know? You know, and still you do this? Why? What did I do to you that makes you think I deserve this? Is it a game? One of your little tricks, perhaps. Do you think it's _funny_?" 

"Is it a what? No." Faraday shakes his head in adamant denial. "Of course I don't think it's funny! What the hell kind of bastard do you think I am? I noticed the problem and I figured I'd help you with it." 

"You noticed ..." Vasquez echoes, and he breathes in sharply, his whole body going tense. "So, it's not a game then. It's pity. Pinche cabron, that is even _worse_ , maldita!" 

Now it’s Faraday who's starting to get angry. Offended, he crosses his arms over his chest and snaps, "It wasn't pity! I ain't never pitied you in my life. It was convenient, killin' two birds with one stone." 

"What the hell are you talking about? Start making sense, guero." Vasquez's voice has gone high and tight, and whatever anger was about to build up in Faraday's chest dissipates at the sound. He doesn't understand how things have gotten so wildly out of his control, but Faraday doesn't need to know all the words to tell that Vasquez is obviously about to hit the proverbial roof he's so agitated and Faraday had never meant for that to happen. Still, he doesn't have to be happy about being yelled at either. 

"It was convenient, or however you want to call it," he amends, figuring that maybe convenient is not the best word choice to go with. "You needed somethin' I could give, and I needed somethin' you could give. Hence, I made it happen." 

Vasquez blinks. "You? What did you need? I didn't do anything for you." 

Faraday snorts. "Vas, don't be stupid, I'd never have managed to get around without you helpin' me for all those weeks in Rose Creek, and you know it." 

"Oh, that. That was different. I understood _that_." Vasquez waves a hand as if to further illustrate how little concern he has with the point Faraday's just made. "I'm talking about after." 

"What after?" Faraday asks. 

" _This_ after." Vasquez responds, equally unhelpful. 

Faraday somehow resists the urge to rip his own hair out in frustration, although it's a near thing. "Vas, either say what you mean or shut up altogether. We're goin' in circles, and I'm too tired for it." 

Vasquez huffs out an exasperated breath. "Fine, idiota. I will try and use small words to see if that helps. You needed my help while you were healing. This I understand, and maybe you're right, maybe it was an arrangement that worked for both of us, but you don't need me anymore. That means I'm taking advantage, and it's why I need you to stop - because I'm not strong enough to." 

Faraday distantly hears the entirety of Vasquez's little speech, but he gets stuck on the line 'you don't need me anymore'. Turning the words over in his head, he takes a couple steps back, having to put some distance between them, and then sucks in a breath as the full weight of what he's done sinks in. "Shit," he says, guilt sinking in and sinking in fast. Faraday's never been much for introspection or caring about the results his actions have on other people, but it seems that's changed without his noticing because he damn well cares about what he's done to Vasquez - even if the man is completely wrong about who's been taking advantage of who. 

"Sí," Vasquez says from his own spot, totally unaware of the path Faraday's thoughts are taking. "Do you understand now?" 

"I do," Faraday replies, nodding his head for emphasis, "but you don't. Fuck, Vas, I'm the one who screwed up here, not you." 

Because the thing of it is, Faraday doesn't need Vasquez helping him get to and fro anymore, but he's gotten used to always having the other man in his space and hasn't wanted to give it up. Never mind what Vasquez wanted or needed, Faraday's been all about Faraday for weeks now, and he'd never once considered that Vasquez might not want him around, he's just continued to take and take because he wanted to. 

"Que? No," Vasquez denies. "You're not listening, guero. Still." 

"No, I am," Faraday insists. He considers how to best explain himself, and then decides to just lay it all out there, his cards fully on the table for once, face up for everyone who matters to see. "You're playin' without all the facts, is all. I haven't kept this up for you, I've been doin' it for me. It's me who doesn't want things to change and me who's been takin' advantage." 

Faraday doesn't need better lighting to know Vasquez is looking at him like he's lost his mind. The incredulous noise the man makes is proof enough. Deciding he's going to have to dig his heels in if he's going to get Vasquez to believe him, he squares his shoulders and continues on. "Y'see, the thing of it is, I've gotten used to havin' you around, not just used to it, I suppose, I like it. I like havin' you in my corner, in my space, always there when I reach out for you, but I haven't once, not this whole time, considered whether or not it was anythin' you wanted. Hell, I told myself I was helpin’ you. So, fuck, so I guess what I'm tryin' to say is I'm sorry, and that I'll stop. I promise, I will. Just try and have mercy if I slip up, will you? I figure it'll take time for me to go back to the way things were." 

Having said all he can think of to say - and grateful for the darkness for the first time all night because at least it will hide the way his face is flushed with a mixture of shame and embarrassment - Faraday turns to head back in the direction of the camp, figuring the best thing he can do right now is suit action to words and give Vasquez the space he's so desperately in need of. 

Given everything that's just happened, he's surprised to say the least when he makes it only a few meters before he hears the sound of hurried footsteps behind him and a heavy hand lands on his arm, the grip strong enough to stop him in his tracks. "Wait." Vasquez says, and uses his hand to drag Faraday back around to face him. 

"Vas, what is it?" Faraday demands. He's tired, and it's got nothing to do with the hour of the night and everything to do with what's just happened. All he wants to do now is put his head down for a few blessed hours until he has to get up and once again face the mess he's created. On the other hand, he's ignored Vasquez's wishes enough lately, so he lets himself be hauled around and waits as patiently as possible to hear what the man has to say. 

Vasquez shakes him a little, but oddly enough doesn't let go now that he has Faraday's attention. "I think," he has slowly, "I think maybe we are still on different pages. You are saying you like the way things have been, yes? And that you don't want them to change - that you'd prefer it if they stayed the same?" 

"Yeah, obviously," Faraday says, and now he does try and pull away from Vasquez, only to have the other man tighten his grip. "C'mon, Vas, I told you I'd give you what you wanted, so be fair and let go." 

"I don't want to," Vasquez replies. He sounds remarkably calm now and not at all like a man who's once again turning everything on its head. "It's like I said, we're still not on the same page. I didn't tell you to stop because I wanted you to; I did it because I thought you were only doing it for my benefit. I _want_ you to stay." 

There's a roaring in Faraday's ears that definitely wasn't there before, and he's coming to the dawning realization of just what exactly it is that he wants. He just prays to god it's what Vasquez is getting at. "Well," he says thickly, his quick way with words suddenly deserting him, "I want that too." 

Vasquez tugs on his arm a few times, his meaning plain, and Faraday allows himself to be reeled in until there's only a few inches of space between them. 

"Is that all you want, guero?" Vasquez asks, and his voice is no longer tentative but is instead back to that strange mix of teasing and sly he always seems to use. 

Unbidden, Faraday feels his mouth start to stretch out into a grin. "Might be I could stand to have more than just my hands on you," he admits in a rush, hoping like hell that's not too forward. It isn't, at least not judging by the way Vasquez lets out a deep throated laugh and edges even more into Faraday's space. 

"Is that so?" He asks, and he's practically purring now, the bastard. 

Faraday scowls at him. "Quit screwin' around, Vas. I've had enough life alterin' revelations for one night. Now's the time to get to the good part."

“Alright, guero. Never let it be said I don’t give people what they want.” Laughing, Vasquez crowds up against Faraday, and that’s the last thing either of them says for a while.

*****

The next time Faraday wakes up it’s morning, and Goodnight is rattling a half-empty cup in his face. “C’mon, son,” the damned bastard is saying, “we let you boys sleep in to try and recover from all the dramatics of last night, but that’s not to say you’re going to be allowed to waste the day away. We’d like to get some riding in, I’m sure.”

Faraday groans. “Robicheaux, you’ve got three seconds to get the hell out of my face before I feed you your own hat.”

Goodnight snickers at him, not moving, and Faraday goes to take a swipe at him only to find his movements hindered in the process. As he slowly comes more awake, he realizes this is because Vasquez has curled up against him while they were sleeping, thoroughly entangling their limbs together and making it all but impossible for Faraday to get after Goodnight pinned down as he is.

“Huh,” he says thoughtfully, and cranes his neck around to get a better look at his sleeping partner. Vasquez is still dead to the world, and makes a decidedly unimpressed noise when Faraday untangles an arm and prods at his side. “It’s possible I didn’t know what I was gettin’ myself into with this one.”

Goodnight snorts. “Yes, well, I know I speak for us all when I say that I hope you’ll be very happy together and also get up.”

Clearly still more asleep than awake, Vasquez growls something unintelligible under his breath and burrows more tightly into Faraday’s back. “Vete, cabrón. Algunos de nosotros estamos tratando de dormir.”

Faraday hums a little to himself and glances up at Goodnight. “Not sure what he just said, but I’m willin’ to bet it contained at least an insult or two in your direction.”

“Sí.” Vasquez grunts, and Faraday pats at an arm that’s slung over his midsection.

“Told you.” He says smugly.

“Fine,” Goodnight throws his hands into the air and starts stalking off towards the main camp. “Just remember that you’re going to appreciate it even less if Sam sends Red or Billy to try and get you up next time.”

“Let ‘em try,” Faraday barks after him. He tries to raise himself up off the ground a little to give the words some added emphasis, but Vasquez lets out a noise akin to disgruntled bear and shoves at him until he lays back down again. “Alright, alright, Vas, calm down.”

“Me calmaré cuando te estas quieto.” Vasquez mutters darkly.

Faraday yawns and settles more comfortably onto the two bedrolls they’d combined into one after arriving back at the camp late last night amid the snickering of their friends. “Be more able to do what you’re askin’ if you were speakin’ english, sweetheart.”

Vasquez makes his umpteenth annoyed noise of the morning. “Be quiet, hold still, and let me sleep. I was comfortable, and you are _ruining_ it.”

“Technically, Goodnight …”

“ _Faraday_.”

“Shuttin’ up, dear. Ow! No pinching!”


End file.
